


The Interrogation

by Lemonandpie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (That's being generous), Alpha Chris Argent, Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Brainwashing, Cuckolding, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Derek Hale is Stiles Stilinski's Alpha, Fucking Machines, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mind Break, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Omegas are second class citizens, Organized Crime, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29878533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemonandpie/pseuds/Lemonandpie
Summary: After years of a cat and mouse game that was more lustful obsession than a manhunt, Special Agent Chris Argent has finally captured Stiles Stilinski-Hale, the secret head of the Hale Crime Syndicate. With Stiles' mate Derek on the run, Chris is given the full weight of the law to extract Hale's whereabouts from the Omega that was now Chris' property.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Isaac Lahey, Chris Argent/Isaac Lahey/Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	The Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> What is this fic. Why is this fic. I don't understand. It was meant to be 2k of Chris using sex to get information out of Stiles, and has instead turned into... asdfghljlkjk. Why are there chapters.
> 
> Warnings: While Stiles accepts that he's going to be brainwashed, nothing about this can be considered consensual. Chris is also a cop in a totalitarian government. There is a lot of violence in between the sex. And this isn't technically a warning but just in case-- Derek kind of sucks in this fic. So does Scott but he's mentioned for two lines so who cares. 
> 
> If you aren't interested in reading a fic with any of those things then please quick away now.

Stiles Stilinski-Hale had been the bane of Chris’ existence for almost seven years. Ever since the kid’s father was murdered and he decided to cope by shacking up with mob boss Derek Hale, he had been sending Chris’ task force on wild goose chases and playing them for fools. It had, admittedly, been the most fun Chris had in years. Even funner after the night a sweet smelling Omega came up to him in a bar, draping all over him and letting Chris buy the lovely thing a couple of drinks, only to leave Chris hard and wanting with only a husky _“you know, I really prefer to be called Stiles”_ to satisfy himself with. 

Chris had spent many nights fucking his wife and imagining it was Stiles bucking wildly on top of him, or being as cool and calculated as when he planned his next robbery. He had spent even more afternoons in cheap hotel rooms jacking off to the few photos they had of Stiles, gained from security cameras and the few glimpses they could catch of him in the background at parties.

Stiles had never been someone they would be able to catch. No, he was too smart for that. Not a single piece of evidence left behind tracked back to Stiles himself, only his compatriots who were more than willing to make asses of themselves. Honestly, Chris hadn’t the faintest clue what Stiles saw instead of Derek Hale, unless he really was that shallow, because they had more than enough evidence to lock Hale away for multiple lifetimes. Stiles, on the other hand… Stiles had convinced everyone, including Chris’ superiors, that he was just a brainless piece of Omega arm candy who just bent over to be fucked while the Alphas did all the work. 

Chris knew better. That’s what made it so much fun.

Until Derek Hale fucked it up for the lot of them. Chris, though he supposed his fixation on Stiles counted as adultery, genuinely loved Victoria. They had been together since high school, had risen through the ranks of the bureau together, and had raised a daughter who was ready to go even further. Chris was not the perfect husband by any means, but watching while his wife bled to death in his arms from a stab wound Derek Hale inflicted had been more than enough to turn their little game into outright war.

A war that Chris had won.

\---

Stiles sat quietly in the Omega Interrogation Unit, calm in spite of the fate that awaited him. His naked body was glistening under the fluorescent lights, and his breaths were deep and relaxed in spite of the straps tied too tightly around his ribs. 

It was fucking beautiful.

Chris had been waiting to get Stiles in The Fuck Chair ever since Stiles pinched his wallet and badge at the bar. Years ago, when he was a young man, he had thought it a horrific misuse of government power and had been determined to abolish it. That was before he had seen a willful, bratty, criminal Omega be turned into the most obedient thing right before his eyes. Perhaps he disagreed with The Chair’s use in minor, first time offences, but he couldn’t deny the results. 

Chris knew he was dripping with the smell of lust, and pride, and determination, could tell by the way everyone watched him as he walked towards the interrogation room, and he knew that as soon as he got inside Stiles was going to drown in the scent of his dominance. Chris undid the top button of his suit shirt and pulled it open so that Stiles could get a good whiff.

“Hello, Agent,” Stiles said, his voice as husky and smooth as it had been that night at the bar. 

“Special Agent, now,” Chris said. He locked the interrogation room door and sat in the chair in front of Stiles. From up close, he could see how tightly every muscle in Stiles’ body was straining. And the thing wasn’t even on yet.

“Congratulations,” Stiles chuckled. “I’d clap, but--” he wiggled his hands from where they were tightly strapped to The Chair’s armrests.

“All those years of being told you weren’t worth my time finally paid off,” Chris said. Stiles pouted. It was adorable. “I’m almost disappointed. All your skill and brilliance, only to be brought down by Scott Mccall.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles wriggled, “Scott always did think with his dick. Does your daughter know you’re sending her boyfriend to prison?”

Chris smiled. “She arrested him herself.”

“Hah,” Stiles whistled. “You Argents really are ruthless.”

“We get the job done.” Chris relaxed in his seat. “So do you.”

Stiles raised his eyebrow. “So the bitch is dead?”

“Died yesterday morning,” Chris confirmed. “The explosion ripped her apart, but she still managed to hang on. The doctors marveled at what a survivor she was.”

“More like even the Devil didn’t want her,” Stiles snorted, then whined. The heart rate monitor picked up an increase in his heartbeat. 

“Seven years of becoming the most prominent crime lord in the country just to kill one person.” Chris watched Stiles’ vitals carefully, watching his physical distress rise. Omegas. Even the best were so predictable. “I’m impressed.”

“She murdered my father,” Stiles stated. His voice was cold with fury. “He wanted to help her and she stabbed him to death right in front of me.”

_Hot blood gushing over him with each pulse from Victoria’s dying heart._

“I’m sorry,” Chris said. 

“She’s paid, that’s all the matters.” Stiles closed his eyes and exhaled, like he was releasing all the pent up anguish he had been carrying within him. Good. He didn’t need it anymore.

“Then I’m sure you understand why I have to do this.” Chris stood up, letting his scent overwhelm the room. 

Stiles gagged, his vitals going haywire on the monitor, but nodded.

Chris took out the control panel for The Fuck Chair, and slowly turned the dial at the bottom. The effect was instantaneous. Stiles seized up, wailing as the dildo he was sitting on began ramming into him with the force of a wild bull. The mechanics of The Chair were loud enough that Chris had to put in ear plugs, and even then he could still hear the squelching as Stiles’ wet hole tried to keep up with the breach. 

“Where is he, Stiles?” Chris asked. He walked behind The Chair and took hold of Stiles’ head, making the Omega stare into the mirror image of himself being fucked like he was a blow up sex doll.

“Can’t tell you,” Stiles said through labored pants. “Unfortunately, I love the fucker.”

“He found out that we were onto you and ran with his tail between his legs, leaving his precious mate behind even though he knew what would happen to you if you were captured. If you still love him after that, then you’re an idiot.”

Stiles laughed.

“What can I say, the heart wants what it-- _ngh_ \-- wants.”

Chris sighed. 

“Only a pathetic Alpha would leave an Omega as perfect as you alone here.”

Stiles stared at Chris through the reflection, and Chris saw a ghost of a smile before Stiles’ arched his back until Chris heard a joint pop as it clicked back into place. He rested a hand on Stiles’ sweat dampened head, ready to give comfort, but instead his hand curled and gripped Stiles’ hair tightly.

“If you tell me where he is,” Chris whispered in Stiles’ ear, “I’ll take you with me.”

Stiles laughed.

“You’re going to anyway.”

Chris had no rebuttal for that, so he took the remote control back out of his suit jacket and turned another dial. Stiles’ legs shook in the confines of The Chair, trying to close his legs as if that would do anything to calm the vibrating bulbs attached to the catheter shoved down his cock. 

“Isn’t it--” Stiles gasped for breath. “--Against dep-- depart--”

“Department regulations?” Chris offered.

“That.” Stiles heaved, and for a second Chris thought he was going to puke. Instead he just keened. “No heat.”

“Heat inducers are for good boys who tell me where their Alphas are,” Chris said. “Until then, you’re going to be completely lucid.”

Stiles sobbed.

“Fuck you,” he said quietly. 

Which… wasn’t what Chris expected.

“Most Omegas kick and scream trying to stay lucid as long as possible. And unlike them you actually have a brain in your head.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at the comment. Then his expression turned pensive. Sad. 

“I want it all to stop,” he said. 

Chris stroked a hand gently down Stiles’ neck and danced it across the scar from Stiles’ mating bite. It was an ugly thing, messy in the way that meant as much as Stiles’ mind may have wanted it, or at least accepted it, his body had thrashed when Hale sunk his teeth into him. 

“Omegas shouldn’t have to worry about things like revenge,” Chris said. No, that wasn’t what he meant. “Children shouldn’t have to live with seeing their parents murdered in front of them.”

That did it. Stiles’ face crumpled, and a lone tear fell down his cheek. The file said that Stiles was only sixteen when Sheriff Stilinski was killed. Stiles had been with his father at the hospital, waiting to see if the lone surviving victim from a brutal killing spree that killed twenty-seven people was going to make it through the night. She had. The problem was that they didn’t realize she was the killer until she had stabbed the Sheriff trying to escape.

A jagged scar on Stiles’ torso was the only lasting evidence of the attack. Chris reached down and ran a finger across the silver line, feeling Stiles shiver beneath him. As soon as Chris got Stiles home he was going to make sure his boy never suffered again.

“As soon as you tell me where Derek is I’ll pump you so full of drugs you’ll never have to think again,” Chris promised. He wouldn’t get Stiles completely knot drunk, at least not permanently, but Stiles didn’t know that.

“Just…” Stiles slammed his hand repeatedly against the arm rest. “Stay with me.”

“Tell me where he is,” Chris repeated.

Stiles sobbed and shook his head.

Frustrated, Chris stood back from Stiles. He fiddled with the buttons of the remote control. There was a hiss as the suction pumps on Stiles’ nipples and balls came to life, which made Stiles groan. Then the automated recording turned on, flooding the room with spirals and lights while a voice encouraged Stiles’ Omega instincts and the machine played Stiles’ own moans back to him. 

For an Omega in heat, it could turn anyone into a pliant fuck doll. Chris had no idea what it would do to someone who was completely lucid.

It wasn’t until Chris opened the door to leave that Stiles started screaming.

“Don’t leave! Please don’t leave! I’ll be good! Please! Alpha! Al--” Chris shut the door. You could hear the rumble of machinery through the floor, but otherwise there was no sound to indicate what was going on. 

Chris took a moment to compose himself, dabbing his brow and straightening his clothes. Anyone who looked at him would be able to see how turned on he was, but the uncomfortable bristle made by anyone who walked by the interrogation room proved they were equally aroused. There was something about The Chair that just brought out something primal in Alphas.

“Chris!” Agent Isaac Lahey bounced up to him, clutching a pile of folders in his left hand. He was a nice kid, an Alpha whose father had beaten him until he had the temperament of a Beta, but with a firm hand to guide him he was quickly flourishing into an exceptional agent. 

Isaac handed him the files.

“Mccall managed to get us into Stilinski’s computer network. We’ve got enough to take down the whole of Hale’s team.” Isaac jittered with excitement.

“Anything there to incriminate Stiles himself?” Chris asked, scanning through the files.

“No.” Isaac frowned. “We can get him on the murder of Jennifer Blake but that's it. None of the crew members we’ve taken in even knew he existed.”

“We’ve got what he wants us to have,” Chris said.

“Why would he want us to take in his Alpha and his right hand man?” Isaac asked.

“Loyalty has to be earned,” Chris replied. He began walking over to the kitchenette where he prayed to God that there’d be some fresh coffee.

“I guess they haven’t done much to help him. But I thought Omegas were loyal to a fault, regardless?” Isaac hurried to keep up with Chris’ pace.

“Only if they want to be.” The coffee pot was still half full, and still had condensation from the steam. Chris touched it, found it still hot, and poured himself a cup. “They’re also easily hurt and can hold one hell of a grudge.”

“Well, I guess he won’t mind so much then.” Isaac handed Chris a form from a Federal Judge. It was immediate notice that Stiles had been stripped of all identity and status and was to be kept in the Omega Interrogation Unit for four days with reinforcement training every six months until his sentence ended. He was to be kept in the confines of a Supervisory Alpha’s home or would be remanded into federal custody. The reinforcement training was the only indication of how scared the government was of Stiles. If Stiles ended up in federal custody, Chris doubted he would see his first reinforcement day.

“Isaac, I want you to get a hold of the Judge for me.” Chris walked over to his desk.

“What for?” Isaac asked. His fellow Agents, Erica and Boyd, rolled their eyes at him. Chris shot them a look, and they went quiet.

“As the Alpha who arrested him, I have first choice as Stiles’ Supervisory Alpha.” Chris reached into his desk and pulled out the dark blue form, immediately beginning to fill it out.

“You’re going to mate him?” Isaac asked. “ _Him_?”

“Yes, him.” Chris took care to make sure everything was filled in properly, which was hard when he was trying to fill it out as quickly as possible.

“What if he, I don’t know, tries to kill you in your sleep? Or uses you to get access to the FBI database and destroy the system from the inside?” Isaac got his phone out in spite of his protests.

Chris chuckled.

“I assure you that Stiles is going to be the best behaved Omega you have ever seen.” He scribbled in Stiles’ details. If The Chair was a success, then it would be the last piece of official documentation on Stiles Stilinski. And The Chair was always a success.

“I’m sorry,” Isaac said, “I thought you just wanted to catch him. I didn’t realize…”

“Victoria wasn’t ecstatic about the idea, so I never told anyone.” Chris wondered if he should be horrified about how little paperwork he had to complete to obtain complete control of another human being, even if that being was just an Omega. At least he knew that before he was given custody of Stiles he would be facing rigorous background checks that he would fly through. 

Chris handed Isaac the forms.

“Send this to Judge Yukimura. She will expedite the request.” 

Isaac nodded and took the paperwork. He was waiting for Judge Yukimura’s legal assistant to pick up when Chris decided it was time to return to the interrogation room. 

Chris wasn’t sure what was more overwhelming-- the smell or the sounds. The sound of the machine was bouncing off the walls, combining with the echoes of Stiles’ screams and the calm orders from the recording. Stiles thrashed around in The Fuck Chair, his voice too hoarse to do more than moan brokenly. The machine was tossing him around, which Chris knew was causing Stiles significant distress. There were fail safes to make sure the Omega was never permanently harmed, but those fail safes only existed because an Omega nearly got fucked to death in the testing stage.

The smell, as nice as it was, was almost enough to make Chris gag. He could smell his own pheromones, oppressive and musky, as well as the pheromones of a distressed Omega that Stiles was pumping out in droves. Above it all though was the ripe scent of Stiles’ slick. 

Chris turned down the vibrations and the speed of the dildo’s thrust, returning the sensations battering Stiles to what was hopefully a manageable level. Stiles sobbed in relief, and sobbed harder when he saw Chris had come back into the room.

“You came back,” he whimpered. 

Chris pulled Stiles’ head back and claimed his mouth in a bruising kiss. Stiles kissed back with none of the passion Chris expected, or even the hatred he would have understood. Instead Stiles kissed him like a virgin on their wedding night, softly and sweetly and ripe for the taking.

There was the tell tale sound of slick dripping from Stiles’ hole.

Chris released the suction cups from Stiles’ chest. Chris removed one at a time, listening to Stiles gasp as his now red and puffy nipples were exposed to the air of the room. Stiles gasped again when Chris took those nipples between his fingers and began to play with them. 

“The forms to make me your Supervisory Alpha have been sent in,” Chris explained. Stiles continued to breath heavily while Chris played with his nipples. “Your human rights were revoked at 5 am this morning.”

Stiles hung his head, clenching his fists tightly. Chris wondered if it was a freeing feeling, knowing that from now on nothing you did or was done to you in any way mattered. After so long treating himself like a ghost, Chris guessed that it was just the final nail of Stiles erasing his own existence.

“That’s why you didn’t drug me,” Stiles mused to himself. 

“I didn’t drug you because I need you to tell me where Derek Hale is,” Chris replied.

“What if I genuinely don’t know?” Stiles asked, blinking tears from his eyes. “I didn’t even know he was running.”

“Then why try to keep him safe?” Chris leant forward and took one of Stiles’ swollen nipples into his mouth. He rolled it around on his tongue while Stiles screamed.

“I don’t know!” Stiles yelled. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!”

Chris let go of Stiles’ nipple.

“He doesn’t love you,” Chris said. “Not enough.”

Stiles sniffed.

“He saved me. He gave me a life.”

“You were a teenage boy who had just watched his father die,” Chris said firmly. “He just wanted a hole to fuck.”

“And you don’t?!” Stiles yelled. “You’re brainwashing me so you can keep me as a fuck toy, asshole!”

Chris pulled back and took a firm hold of Stiles’ head, forcing Stiles to look him directly in the eye. 

“I’m giving you what you need. You have spent the last seven years falling apart, Stiles. I’m just helping to put you back together.”

Stiles slammed his head as much as he could against the back of The Chair, then again, and again, before breaking down in sobs. Chris placed his hand behind Stiles’ head so he couldn’t attempt to do any more damage.

“Don’t worry.” Chris kissed Stiles again. “I love your mind too much to let it go to waste.”

“Lov-- you love me?” Stiles asked, his red eyes widening. 

Chris pulled back, examining Stiles. His heartbeat and breathing indicated he was undergoing a high level of exertion. His cock was as hard as an Omega could get, and Chris could see the vibrating bulges under his skin. None of it compared to his stomach though, which was distended around the dildo that was still moving furiously inside of him. 

“I promise I will keep you safe,” Chris replied, unable to confirm what Stiles was asking. “I wish I’d always been able to keep you safe.”

Stiles’ eyes clouded over, watery with tears, before his face settled like he had fallen asleep.

“He’s got an ex-girlfriend down in Mexico,” Stiles said quietly. “He won’t have gotten there yet. My phone has an app that can track his, and he’s too dumb to have dropped it.” Stiles whined, his face scrunching up again. “The password is ‘Sourwolf.’”

Chris got to his feet and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ head.

“You’ve got four days in this chair, then one day every six months. Don’t fight it, Stiles. You won’t win. I know you don’t want to win.”

Stiles closed his eyes, more tears sliding down his cheeks. Then he nodded.

Chris nodded back before starting the IV drip of heat inducers. He pulled the headset over Stiles’ head, already flooding Stiles’ vision with hypnotic spirals, images of Omegas being stuffed with cock, and most importantly, real time video footage of himself. Stiles was trapped staring at himself, watching as he slowly lost his mind to his heat. 

“I want you to remember how all of this feels so you can tell me later,” Chris whispered in Stiles' ear, before changing the recording to one he had made just for Stiles. With a final kiss, he grabbed the final apparatus, a mask with a dildo sticking out of it. He slipped the dildo between Stiles’ lips and adjusted everything so Stiles was getting enough air pumped into his nose and through the small holes in the dildo. 

The Fuck Machine embraced its purpose, even though the small writhes of Stiles’ body and the lack of noise escaping him proved that he was resisting it. It wouldn’t last long. A part of Chris was regretful that the only Omega who was worth something was going to be reduced into just another toy, but Chris wouldn’t mind so long as Stiles was his toy. 

He left the Interrogation Room and readied everyone for the hunt for Derek Hale.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are gooey and delicious.
> 
> Come join me at lemonandpie.tumblr.com where I post updates, plot bunnies, and raunchy pics I like that tumblr won't kick me out for (let's hope). My ask box is also open if you want to send me asks, prompts, scenarios, etc!


End file.
